


Unwavering

by minigyu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Rimming, Smut, apparently i am also bad at summaries, fukurodani gang, i am just watching haikyuu reminiscing over my adolescence, i do not remember how to write, it has been 6 years, nor how to tag, not really sorry, pls be kind, suddenly questioning if any of these tags are valid, they're both 18 but they're students still, use protection kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minigyu/pseuds/minigyu
Summary: Washio Tatsuki would hang the moon and stars for Akinori. He would even arm-wrestle Bokuto if Akinori asked. But Akinori doesn't. Akinori barely notices Tatsuki, until one day, he sees everything. Even then, there's always more than what meets the eye.
Relationships: Konoha Akinori/Washio Tatsuki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Unwavering

Konoha Akinori spends most of his waking hours squinting, eyes narrowed at Fukurodani chalkboards, at his opponents’ blocks, at Bokuto’s constant need for attention. Even so, Tatsuki rarely catches Akinori with his eyes fully closed, despite what he might have fooled teachers and teammates alike into believing. There's truly nothing more that Tatsuki wants to see than Akinori's eyes closed, in sleep, in bliss, to watch him without uninterrupted. 

Tatsuki doesn’t consider himself particularly observant, but the rest of the team know he sees much more than he says, possibly by merit of not saying much to begin with. Akinori knows this Tatsuki well. 

When it comes to Akinori, Tatsuki sees everything. This side of him, Akinori doesn’t know. Akinori is usually too busy conspiring with Komi about how they’re going to deal with Bokuto that day, or lecturing Akaashi about babying their ace less. What Tatsuki doesn’t know, is that Akinori spends far too many moments out of earshot plotting how to break Tatsuki's steady presence and get him to take Akinori to pieces. Komi’s bet it'll take another two weeks for Akinori to work up the courage, and Sarukui a month. The entire team is not in on it, though: Akinori decides to keep this from Akaashi (their precious setter kouhai, after all) and from Bokuto (despite his good intent, there was no telling how coach might react when- not if- Bokuto let slip). 

So when Akinori notices Tatsuki’s eyes trained on him with an intensity unbecoming of their usual grins (in Akinori’s case) and glances (in Tatsuki’s case) during practice as Sarukui helps him stretch one Saturday, his eyes widen in surprise, and he definitely misses some joke Saru made that he was meant to laugh at. Akinori quickly coughs out a laugh and lets his eyes crinkle back into their natural state to try and hide how flustered he is by Tatsuki’s unwavering gaze, still focused on him as they finish up their warm-up stretches. Sarukui catches the lapse in Akinori’s attention but knowing its cause, says nothing, for which Akinori is quite grateful.

A few days later, after practice, and, moreover, after Akinori catches several more inexplicably charged gazes from Tatsuki over the net and across the court, they end up in Tatsuki’s room, studying for the endless exams that plague every student's life. How Akinori has only now just noticed them (both Tatsuki’s ever-present attentiveness and their upcoming exams), Tatsuki has no idea. 

Akinori stretches lazily, glancing up from his textbook again to find Tatsuki intensely studying him, rather than their entrance exam materials. “Washio, is there something on my face that would help us beat Bokuto into shape or get us both into Todai? I’m dying to know either way,” he snarks, albeit without causticity, across the table. 

Despite Akinori's callout of his brazen stares, Tatsuki continues. “Does it bother you?” 

He has, after all, been watching his teammate for years. What reason might he have for stopping, short of Akinori’s discomfort? 

But, looking at Akinori’s face, as Tatsuki always is, he sees nothing out of the ordinary. He sees the faintest smirk forming but doesn’t question it. Akinori is always full of sarcastic humor, Tatsuki has long since learned.

“It bothers me that we’ve been studying for hours and I still don’t understand how Bokuto was able to get this math problem right while I didn’t. Help me.” Akinori demands. Of course, there is no such problem, in spite of all the griping Akinori has done that afternoon. Fukurodani’s jack-of-all-trades is nothing if not capable.

Tatsuki rises from his seat without so much as a sigh. 

And is promptly and ungainly brought to the floor again. He regains his bodily awareness only to find Akinori crawling over him, curiosity sparking in his eyes. 

“It bothers me that I don’t understand why you’re always looking at me.” Akinori pouts before catching his mistake, biting back any further honesty in his words and ducking down to steal Tatsuki’s response from his lips. But he doesn’t anticipate Tatsuki being ready for him, despite his initial surprise at being ambushed. He can’t possibly know that Tatsuki has daydreamed (and night-dreamed, realistically) about having Akinori like this, all his expressions laid bare for only him to see.

Tatsuki’s gaze never falters, not even when Akinori leans down to watch Tatsuki, perhaps perplexed by the discovery of his unwavering devotion. Desperate to avoid the realization, or maybe more accurately unwilling to confront the warmth rising to his face, Akinori bumps into Washio's stupidly nice nose in his haste to slot their mouths together. Their lips meet awkwardly, Akinori unsure of what exactly he’d unearthed in both himself and in Tatsuki, and Tatsuki willing to accept anything of Akinori. 

They pull apart just as awkwardly, if not more reluctantly. Tatsuki swallows. 

“I’m always watching you, Konoha. Everything about you, everything that you do and say, I want to see.”

“We’re in your room, Tatsuki, in a pretty stereotypically compromising position, and you still can’t call me by my given name?” he grins down, carefully evading Tatsuki’s tender confession, eyes squinting, fears of honest emotional connection seemingly forgotten. 

“Akinori.” Tatsuki faithfully replies, unphased by Akinori’s teasing. 

“Much better,” Akinori purrs with a poorly-stifled moan as he grinds down on the heat of Tatsuki’s growing length. He hopes his stalling is effective.

“Anything for you.” Tatsuki’s voice is steady as ever, but his breathing is more labored, Akinori notes, not without some pride. 

He snakes a hand down from Tatsuki’s shoulder to his groin, and his grin grows wider as he feels Tatsuki resist the urge to thrust up into his touch.

“It’s okay if you want to, Tatsuki. That’s kind of the goal,” Akinori teases coquettishly, pressing down harder. 

“In fact,” he leans down to whisper in Tatsuki’s ear, “I’d love nothing more than if you were to make a mess of your uniform for me.” Akinori’s hands now bracket Tatsuki’s face as he punctuates his words with a dirty grind of his hips against Tatsuki’s hard length. 

Tatsuki throbs for Akinori, because of Akinori. He has half a thought to thrash about or at least turn his head to the side, anything to just move, but then he would miss Akinori’s expressions. So Tatsuki lies there, incredibly aroused by this proactive and dominant Akinori, fists clenched at his sides while Akinori makes quick work of his belt and slacks, because “that would be hard to explain, right Tatsuki?” 

Stripping Tatsuki down to his boxers, Akinori shimmies out of his own before moving back across the floor to Tatsuki to find him soaking through his boxers. 

“You dirty, dirty boy.” Akinori murmurs as he frees Tatsuki’s thick length from the confines of his boxers. Akinori clambers over Tatsuki, to take his erection in his mouth, his own arousal hot and hips swaying sensuously in front of Tatsuki. “Dirty as you are, I sure hope you’re clean where it counts.” 

Akinori turns to look pointedly at Tatsuki, who nods with genuine confirmation. Tatsuki indulges Akinori otherwise, because when does he ever not, and appreciates the view before being rudely and completely swallowed down by Akinori. Tatsuki barely stifles a heartfelt groan before Akinori picks up an unrelenting pace, bobbing up and down without pause. 

After what feels like an eternity, Tatsuki wheezes out a broken “Akinori,” but upon being met with little reaction, Tatsuki decides to take a bit of control over the situation, spreading Akinori’s cheeks and licking one wide, wet stripe from his balls to his puckered entrance. 

Unexpectedly being eaten out has the intended effect, and Akinori appropriately pulls off of Tatsuki’s dripping member to look pointedly at him, eyes less squinted but one brow still questioningly arched.

“I'm close. I want to come with you. In you, if you’re willing," he says lightly, casually. "With protection, of course." 

Akinori nods like a bobblehead and forgets to breathe a little. There goes his façade.

Akinori doesn’t know this, but Tatsuki doesn’t particularly care.

It’s not until Tatsuki gently folds his legs up to place a pillow underneath his hips and pops the lid on the bottle of lube stashed discreetly by his bed that Akinori returns to earth, flushed redder than his own arousal. 

“Is this okay?” 

Akinori doesn't think he's stopped nodding. 

A single finger circles his entrance gently before pressing in. Tatsuki’s fingers are massive compared to his own, thick and long and confident, Akinori thinks. 

He tenses when he feels another, but some light pets at his hip help him relax enough to take another of Tatsuki’s fingers. 

The push and pull of Tatsuki inside him no longer feels like his entire being is being rearranged, and rhythmic curl and slide is actually starting to feel quite good when Akinori remembers he is a man with standards. He starts to sit up before launching another witty quip up at Tatsuki when an unannounced third finger makes him weak at his core. 

"T-Tatsuki," he struggles to breathe, right hand reaching out to grab Tatsuki's arm. "I want to do something different." 

Tatsuki obliges him, of course. He lets Akinori flip their positions, Akinori crawling forward on his knees to perch on Tatsuki's hips while he reaches for a condom. Akinori grabs it from him and rolls it onto Tatsuki's length impatiently. Tatsuki is just happy to observe. 

With Akinori now above him again, Tatsuki reaches around to join Akinori's finger. Akinori misses this, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, and his hips and heart and lungs stutter as he feels Tatsuki's finger slip in alongside his own, pressing inside until he locates the spot that brings Akinori endless pleasure. Pressing down from both inside and out against his rim proves to be almost too much as his whole body heaves from Tatsuki's careful touch.

"I'm ready," he breathes out. 

As Tatsuki helps Akinori line himself up, he glances up to find Akinori’s eyes closed again, brows furrowed in unconscious anxiety. As much as he can with one hand around his own dick, he looses his other hand from Akinori’s hip to tenderly smooth the uncharacteristic grimace from his face.

Tatsuki watches as Akinori sinks down onto his length, how tight and hot and wet he is an afterthought to the myriad of emotions crossing his face. 

Tatsuki remains as still as he can beneath Akinori as his body adjusts around him. After a few arduous moments that really aren't so bad because Tatsuki is just happy to be close to Akinori, he's stirred out of his sanguine reverie as Akinori squeezes around him. Tatsuki looks up at him to find a lop-sided grin on his face, eyes squinting still. 

This time it's Tatsuki, lost in the light and shadows of Akinori's face, who's caught off-guard by a sinuous roll of Akinori's hips, punctuated by Akinori biting back a groan. 

This time it's Akinori who asks, "Ready?" and sets pace that once again knocks the breath from Tatsuki's lungs. Akinori rides him punishingly hard, as if determined to race Tatsuki to a sweet and delirious finish. 

Tatsuki gingerly brings his hands to rest at Akinori's waist while his hips thrust up to meet every downward surge. It seems today Akinori is in charge, and Tatsuki wants nothing more than to help him achieve his goal, which still remains a mystery to Tatsuki. And maybe the orgasm of Akinori's life too. This is more straightforward.

Tatsuki wordlessly wraps his long fingers around Akinori's length, his calluses providing the perfect contrast against the slickness that's been dripping over Tatsuki's stomach. A few gentle strokes soon turn into rough twists of his wrist, encouraged by Akinori's mindless thrusts, his hips chasing all the pleasures Tatsuki has to give. 

An especially brutish thrust and the catch of Tatsuki's nail against his slit sends Akinori over the edge, clenching even hotter and tighter around him as he spills over Tatsuki's body. Tatsuki stares breathlessly and unceasingly at the glistening column of Akinori's throat, his head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and that's all it takes. 

///

Coming down from his high, Akinori finds himself in Tatsuki’s bed. More surprisingly, he’s no longer sticky and gross. Tatsuki must have cleaned them up. 

Akinori supposes there’s no evading the truth now. He rolls over to face Tatsuki and lets yet another honest, half-formed thought slip past his lips. "What would you do instead of looking?" 

“I would have you beneath me, if you’d let me. I would treasure every centimeter of you until you came apart. I would want to hear every sound you make, and kiss it right out of your mouth. I want every part of you, all of you, whatever you will give me and more, all to myself.” 

Akinori's eyes open from their half-closed post-coital haze to meet Tatsuki's. He meets his surprise evenly. Neither deign to comment on Tatsuki's unprecedented chattiness. 

Body warmed by Tatsuki’s and face flushed by this sudden admission, Akinori rolls over to hide the unbecoming pink high across his cheeks, which threatens the sincerity of his mischievous squint, in Tatsuki’s pillow.

“Of course, I’d let you, dummy,” he mumbles. 

Akinori feels Tatsuki’s arm snake around, as if to cradle him, and his lips turn up into the faintest of smiles against the crook of his neck. After all, he gets to see Akinori like this. 

They doze off like that in the setting afternoon sun, and Akinori relaxes into Tatsuki, his usual squint softened into a matching smile. It's a good end to an unexpected day for Akinori. 

Komi and Saru both owe him 2000 yen.

**Author's Note:**

> i am sorry. i have absolutely No Idea what compelled me to write one of the rarest side pairings in hq. with SMUT involved. also i wrote this in the notes of my phone at 6am on a weekday; please be kind. was maybe thinking about Konoha squinting all the time and was gonna write smut about how Washio is always lookin at Konoha but it somehow turned into a buncha fluff oops. use protection kids AND THAT INCLUDES DENTAL DAMS.
> 
> also. i was definitely Not thinking about the S2 training camp arc washio and konoha we were ROBBED of 
> 
> alsoalso i definitely was NOT inspired by my re-watch of the s4 fukurodani match 
> 
> please comment if you enjoyed it at all it and you would mean the world to me 🥺🥺


End file.
